


Systematic Bonding

by Superbeans



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Film References, Gen, Karaoke, Marriage, Minor Spoilers, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-02 02:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13308918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superbeans/pseuds/Superbeans
Summary: A canon divergence where Tammy ISN’T a secret agent, and she and Birdperson simply get married in peace. Featuring the after party and some drunken karaoke.





	Systematic Bonding

The _Sparkling Feathers_ had never seen such a gathering. Staff at the hotel struggled to keep up with demand as the dozens of ‘guests’ made themselves a little too comfortable.

Furniture, thrown. Music, some forgotten hard rock band from about 1996. Booze, flowing. The antique stained glass window? Broken.

“Ugh, here it comes,” a deep, guttural voice retched, as a slimy yellow thing vomited out what looked like coal.

Amidst all the madness, one birdman stood up. He cleared his throat, fluttered the wings on his back, and tapped his glass with a spoon to call for quiet. 

“I would like to speak now,” he muttered in a practiced monotone, as the forgettable rock music was lowered, but the guests remained as wasted and rowdy as ever.

”...excuse me,” the birdman reiterated.

”If you would not mind,”

”I would appreciate it if-“

The birdman sighed, and lowered his glass. Maybe the ‘getting wrecked’ portion of this social gathering was best done after the-

“Hey everyone!” A far louder voice bellowed above it all. “Shut the fuck up and listen to Birdperson, dammit!”

Like someone had pulled the plug out of a sink, the noise drained from the room almost instantly, leaving a revered - if slightly awkward - silence.

”...thank you Rick,” Birdperson cleared his throat again. “A-and thank you all for coming to the after party, those of you who came.”

”You all rule!” The young woman to his left thrust her empty glass into the air.

”A succinct choice of words, Tammy,” Birdperson nodded at her. “Yes, you do all... rule. I will not keep you too long, as I know you all just want to get back to your drunken mayhem, so I-“

Birdperson’s monotone slowly dissolved into the atmosphere,  his restless gathering of fifty or so guests struggling to keep attention.

”Aww, doesn’t that Tammy girl look adorable?” A tipsy Beth tittered to no one in particular. 

“It’s weird, she was so awkward in high school,” her daughter Summer frowned. “Never thought she’d be the first one to get married.”

”Soul-Bonded, Summer,” grandfather Rick corrected. “I know, there’s like no f-*urp!*, difference, but it’s a cultural thing, an’ we really don’t wanna upset the Birdpeople. They’re a proud race.”

”Y-yeah,” his grandson Morty added, “Benjamin Franklin once called their leader a gutless vulture, and look what happened to him!”

”Morty...” Rick groaned.

”Wait, he died, didn’t he?” Summer cried. “Hang on... Birdpeople were involved with Benjamin Franklin?!”

”Course,” Rick’s voice was hollow. “Why d’ya think our national emblem is the bald eagle?”

”Be-because it represents... freedom?” Summer balked. Meanwhile Morty and her grandpa just gave each other a knowing look.

”Anyway, they struck a deal with us back in seventeen eighty...something, and that’s why they get Earth TV here,” Rick explained. “Course, it takes twenty fuckin’ years to get here, but hey. Titanic’s real big right now.”

”Wait, but-“ Summer began, however her voice was quickly muffled by Rick’s hand as Birdperson brought his speech to a close.

”-and that is why I believe parallel parking should be banned,” he said. “Thank you for your patience, everyone. Now if you don’t mind, it is time to begin the karaoke segment of this after party. As is tradition, Tammy and I shall sing the first song.”

At Birdperson’s gesture, the ceiling opened up to lower down an acorn-shaped disco ball, as strobe lighting began to flash across the room. Birdperson held out a hand for Tammy, who grinned and took it gleefully. The pair made their way towards the back of the room where some ancient karaoke equipment was gathering dust.

”Ahem...!” Birdperson took in a deep breath, and wrapped an arm around Tammy, holding her in close. He nodded once to the staff, and some 70s swing music began blasting through the oversized speakers in each corner.

”...huh?” Beth instantly perked up. “Th-that sounds familiar! Why does that sound familiar?”

Rick opened his mouth to respond, but son-in-law Jerry barged in instead,

”You don’t know it already, Beth? C’mon, it’s easy!”

”Well maybe if I watched films all day instead of working like an a-DULT,” Beth gave her husband The Stare, as Rick smirked in the background, “then maybe it would be easy! What is it, Saturday Night Fever?”

”Ooh, so close...” Jerry snickered. “It’s Grease! Wait... why is it Grease?”

Just as Jerry spoke, the lyrics started coming in, with Birdperson’s monotone pulling its weight;

”We go, together, like labba wabba ka walabba, lubba wa dub a-dub.”

Tammy followed up, much more tuneful,

“Remem-bered for-ever, like shoo-wa, koowa, yama wubbada diddily dub!”

 

“Well if you let me answer, instead of just demonstrating your *burp* stupidity, Jerry,” Rick also gave him The Stare. “You’da heard me say ‘remember how it takes twenty years for anything to get here from Earth?’ Yeah, Grease was fuckin’ huge when it came out here. Apparently the concept of changing so another person’ll like you is shit hot among Birdfolk. Seriously, they’ve got a Birdperson-ized statue of John Travolta outside City Hall.”

”B-but the lyrics?” Beth frowned.

”Bird language,” Rick explained. “All the wubba lubba bullshit is real similar, so they took the ball and ran with it. It actually means somethin’ in their language, but I can’t tell you what.”

“Aww, that’s kinda cute,” Beth smirked at the two newly weds, singing to each other with their faces just inches apart.

”Anyway, we’re up next Morty,” Rick belched, as Birdperson and Tammy’s song drew to a close. “Help your grandpa up will ya?”

”M-me?!” Morty cried. “C-c’mon grandpa Rick, why’ve I gotta? I can’t even sing!”

”Pff, you say that like it matters,” Rick stumbled to his feet, knocking over several of the empty bottles on their table in the process. “I sing like a roadkilled Tzuna’arian, but d’ya see me whining? No! I’m doin’ it for Birdperson! Now help me over there dammit, all I can see is everything fucking melting.”

”Mom...?” Morty hoped a wide eyed plead would appeal to her. But she already had a camera in her hands, and the widest grin he’d seen in months. There was no escaping this.

”Fine...” Morty groaned, and dragged his grandfather over to the stage, where Birdperson and Tammy were still standing. Tammy beamed at him, and he could’ve sworn that even Birdperson almost half-smiled.

”Rick, Morty,” he spoke. “I am honoured you would sing for me,” his tone was light.

”Fuck, Birdperson, I’m so wasted right now I’d sing for *vurrp*, fuckin’ Jerry.” Rick flailed an arm vaguely towards the birdman. 

“All a part of the master plan, Mr Sanchez.” Tammy tapped her nose three times, and Birdperson’s pupils dilated just a little.

”Whoa whoa, who’s ‘Mister’ Sanchez?” Rick swallowed thickly. “Just call me Rick, alright kid? Or shithead, whatever. Either way, hit us with a sick beat Birdperson! Ya ready Morty?!”

”No...!” Morty squeaked. Quivering in front of the pair of microphones, he could feel he hundreds of eyes, staring directly at him. The heat of the strobe lights, the disco ball flashing, the twenty or so photos his mother had already taken... it was all way too much.

”Oh, fuck’s sake Morty. Just pretend they’re all naked or something.” Rick scoffed.

”That makes it worse!” Morty visibly shrivelled.

”Fine then, pretend they’re wearing full fucking body armour, whatever works!”

Some jingly 80’s rock track began blasting through the oversized speakers, and Rick staggered over to the other microphone.

“Right Morty,” he said. “You get the girl lines, got it?”

”Wait what?! Oh c’mon, Rick...!” Morty cried. But it was all too late, as the lyrics began rolling in.

”Lookin’ in your eyes, I can see a paradise,” Rick slurred, staring vaguely at the big screen. “This world that I found, is too good to be true. C’mon Morty!”

Morty continued to quiver in front of his mic as Tammy grabbed Birdperson by the hand and dragged him onto the dance floor. One hand on the shoulder, his on her back, the pair began revolving slowly. Meanwhile Morty at least attempted to stammer out the lyrics on the screen, to welcome cheering from the crowds.

The booze was still flowing, the furniture was getting thrown, and a fire had just broken out in one corner. But eyes were on the happy couple, whose soul bond had gone off without a hitch.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey dudes. This is the first of at least two Rick and Morty fics I’ll be writing. I figured I’d get the one shot out of the way first, so let of like a training wheels experience.
> 
> Err... hope you enjoyed! :)


End file.
